Compound gist

I'm still typing up my trip to the North notes - should post today if I get round to it (recovering from a great party last night). Meanwhile, Bibi and I went for a neighbourhood walk yesterday evening - you can do these kind of things in Abuja, unlike those poor souls who suffer so in Lagos. On coming back into the compound, gateman number two (he always looks miserable and insists on wearing a woolly ski hat in all weathers) started moaning in sub-Yoruba to Bibi, complete with gestures re-enacting some scene. A mixture of my still ashamedly poor Yoruba comprehension and his poor diction meant I couldn't follow the story. He worked himself up and Bibi started remonstrating. It was only after we left him that she explained:

Our house-help Frederika had taken a pee too close to comfort to a yam of his, round the back of the BQ. This had upset him, so he had threatened to beat her up, in full view of the compound. Bibi had then turned tables and asked him what kind of man he is that he would consider beating a woman, which had frustrated his attempt to express his full complaint..

Compound life is seldom dull.